Black Days of Azkaban
by Asher Elric
Summary: hDolores Umbridge has the brilliant idea to visit Sirius Black in Azkaban. She wants his confession tot he murder's of James and Lily Potter. But Black has other ideas. He won't give her what he wants without a fight. THis is a look at life in Azkaban.
1. A Serious Endeavour

**Black days of Azkaban**

**Disclaimer - I do not won.**

**No pairings.**

**Rated R/NC17 (But only for torture, no sex!)**

**Warnings for torture of a Muggle Sort. So, if blood and pain squick you, do not read. Savvy?**

**A/N - The purpose of this story is that I got to thinking about Azkaban. There has to be more to it than Dementors and in another fic I mentioned Muggle torture. I also think that Umbridge is scarier than Voldemort, I mean really! Voldemort is a horrible Villain. Umbridge should have taken over the world!**

**Chapter 1 - A Serious Endeavour**

The screams echoed upwards from the dungeons to the top floors of the old, but heavily fortified and guarded castle. Azkaban, the most feared place in the Wizarding World was a dank, dark, cold and noisy place. One would think otherwise, that it would be quiet, with some whimpers from its inmates. No, it was noisy. The screaming of pain. The swish and flick of a Muggle torture tool - among others - made this castle one of nightmares.

This did not bother her though. He bright pink robes were garish in the dank, greyness that covered the place. She hummed as her heels made a clicking noise, too cheerful. Her short, mousy brown hair was curled and her pink cap sat upon it at a stylish angle. Most of the cells were empty. Azkaban Castle was a huge place. There were at least ten inmates at the moment, and the one she wanted to see the most was one by the name of Sirius Leigh Black.

The man had been here for three months. They had sent plenty of Ministry people to see him, to talk to him, to gain from him a confession. Any confession. He spoke other words though, always denying the fact that he had killed the Potters. Not that Dolores Jane Umbridge actually cared about the Potters. No, she cared what this would do for her career. She smirked at the thought. A new office would suit her just fine.

Her first stop was the Warden's office - Located at the top most level of the highest tower, among the mist and the rain and the thunder - there was an obvious try of making it almost cheerful. Dark drapes covered the walls from floor to ceiling, the huge fire place glowed brightly, but not at all cheerily. There was still a noticeable draft. There were no pictures on the walls, for fear that some secret may get out. Azkaban was a fortress, they couldn't afford for anything to escape.

"Ah, Miss Umbridge, how nice of you to come?" Warden Hartford was a portly man. He enjoyed food, he enjoyed good books and a strong cup of Earl Gray Tea. There wasn't enough cheer to go around here and so he took advantage whenever he could. Of course the Dementor's were always told to never go near anyone who worked there while they could have fun with the prisoners whenever and however they liked. They had to stop short of Soul Eating, but that was about as far as the rules for them went.

Gregory Hartford stood from his chair, portly really didn't describe the man, he was more of a whale than anything, Umbridge knew him to have partly Muggles for family - a cousin by the name of Dursley, but he never talked of his Cousin. He had blond hair and had a snout like a pig. His nick name here-bout's was 'Pig Face' - thanks to Black.

"What can I do for you?" Gregory asked.

"I've come to see Black," Umbridge replied.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I intend to get his confession no matter what I must do in order to gain it. I have a Concurrence from the Minister, Fudge, you knew him from school," Umbridge explained with a simpering laugh. Gregory took the proffered paper and looked it over.

"Everything looks good, will you be staying the night? Or a few nights? I have guest quarters ready and they are not drafty and the Dementors are allowed no where near them," Gregory replied. Umbridge acted as if she needed to think about it, but at last she agreed.

"That would be wonderful, Cornelius can get along without me for a few days, he did say that I needed a holiday," she replied, again with that sickening and simpering giggle of hers.

Gregory blinked at her; "Dolores, you're batty!" he shook his head. But she didn't mind. Maybe she was batty for wanting to spend a week or so at Azkaban, it felt like Home. No place had felt like that. Maybe her in sadism was being met here, she didn't know. All she knew was that she liked it, and she didn't want it to end.

"So, when may I see Black?"

"I'll give you the highest clearance, you can see him any time day or night," Gregory replied. She smiled. That was what she had been after in the first place.

* * *

Cold.

He was always cold and he couldn't remember the last time he had been warm at all. The warming charm that an old Auror friend of his had put on his Azkaban robes had worn off after these long months - at least he thought it was months - and now she shivered against the stone wall, listening to the roaring sea outside the barred window and hoping for one clear night so that he may see the moon.

He dared not entertain any happy memories. Dementors were sure to come then, and so he remembered his childhood. Which wasn't happy at all, especially when he lived with his parents. He didn't like thinking about this, nor his mistakes. He didn't want to take fault, but it was. His choices had all led him here. He did not see any other road that did not, in the end, lead to the depression of Azkaban. He rubbed his hands together. His nails were long and jagged, dirt encrusted and he knew the rest of him was rather horrible to look at. His hair seemed to grow at a fast rate, whenever he was depressed, his hair always did this. He didn't care though. The rats nest of his hair could have been cut for all he knew and it would still grow back. His mother had done that plenty of times, till she just gave up and let him despair as he would.

He longed for the voices of his friends. Sometimes they echoed in his head -

_Mr. Moony would like to inform some Noisy people to keep their beaks out of other peoples business!_

_Mr. Prongs would like to inform Mr. Padfoot that he is a dolt! A complete dolt!_

_Mr. Wormtail confirms Mr. Prongs Prognosis of Mr. Padfoot. _

Peter, why?

That was the one question Sirius couldn't answer. He did not know why Peter betrayed him, James, Lily and Harry. He hadn't expected it. But in the end, it was the best (or the worst depending on how angry he was feeling) Marauder trick that Peter had ever come up with. It was brilliant. Playing to be their friend till the time came when he would turn the tables on them and take his revenge.

But for what? Did Peter want revenge for something petty? Sirius didn't know. Though he tried to Puzzle it out. Peter never did make sense to him. He wasn't bright, nor was he funny. He had been a roly-poly kid with a thing for zits and was horrible at Magic. Sirius, James and Remus always had to help him - and half the time he messed up their tricks till they gave him the job of being look our - which he messed up anyway.

Other than becoming an Animagus. He was a cheerful kid, always wanted food but sometimes was brilliant. Like agreeing to the trade - then betraying them to Voldemort. The bastard!

A grating in the lock of the bared door and Sirius looked up, strands of black hair stuck to his pail features. His fathomless grey eyes had no light of the former soul that still resided in that body. At least, he hoped he was still all there.

Two Wizards stepped through. Well, one was a Witch. Her pink robes looked out of sync with this place, against the cold back ground of the grey stone. Sirius didn't move. Didn't know what they wanted of him and he didn't want to be cursed for simply getting to his feet. He didn't feel like moving either, so, it was rude. He didn't care.

"Mr. Black," Gregory Hartford's fake cheerful tone made Sirius cringe. When Gregory got into this mood, his favorite prisoner to whip (himself) was Sirius. Who had learned to not fight and it might not be so bad. Though, he was just recovering from the last beating with the glass encrusted whip that Gregory had gotten as birthday present from his Mother. Who had to be related to the Black's in some way. That'd be something he knew his own mother would have done.

"Mr. Black, this is Dolores Umbridge, she's hear for your confession," Hartford smirked happily at Sirius. Somehow, Sirius knew that this would not turn out well.

TBC


	2. The Start of Something Serious

**Black Days in Azkaban**

**Rated- R/NC17 for torture. No Sex.**

**Chapter 2 - The start of something Serious!**

Sirius Black slowly reached his feet. The cold he felt in his bones seemed to multiply, like a magical flue. Ensconcing him in that cold that made him Fear. He Feared right then and there. He didn't like to Fear. He hated the Fear and he wanted to banish it. That was hard to do when one couldn't do magic. Though, sometimes if he was angry, or sad, his magic would work the torches outside the doorway.

"What do you need from me?" Sirius asked. Just to make sure. One could never tell what people wanted these days. Gregory Hartford stood there in that thick, fur covered cloak and Sirius was fuming. Even if he was accused of a crime, weren't he and the others entitled to some sort of warmth? Or would they have to be treated for Hypothermia and then go on with life in their cells?

"Hem-hem," the woman coughed, bringing Sirius attention to her. He hated the pink, he wanted to rip it into shred and rail at the world. A line from some Muggle Lord ran through is head; "Give me leave to Rail at you, I ask nothing but my due, to call you false and then to say, you shall not have my heart a day…." - He couldn't remember the Muggle though.

"Yes?" Sirius asked, just to be polite. He wasn't that far below his station to not be polite. Though, he had wondered - when they had brought in Malfoy - if he had paid off Hartford to get one of the guest rooms for his Azkaban stay.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge and I am here for your confession, but we've all ready told you that. Have you lost your memory along with your sanity?" she asked it in such a way that it was sickeningly sweet and Sirius felt those odd homicidal urges welling up within him. He blinked, counted to ten in Greek - and then in German.

"What can I tell you that I haven't all ready told you? They've sent four other Ministry people to get my confession, it was the same each time. Even under Virtriserum," he explained.

She gave him a smile; "I suppose they just didn't handle you in the correct way," Umbridge did that coughing thing again. Sirius held in a sigh.

"What do you mean by that?" he had to ask. No way was he going to stand there in an awkward silence and let them think that they got the better of him.

"You'll soon find out, Black," Gregory gave a wide grin.

* * *

Chains clinked as the prisoner was escorted through the prison, down several flights of stairs till finally they entered the dungeons. It was even worse down here, if there could be a certain place within the castle that was more of a nightmare than the rest of it.

The dungeons were for torture. If you got brought down here only pain, screaming and other such things happened. You didn't want to be brought down here no matter what. It wasn't his fault though. He knew. They gave him over doses of the truth serum. He always told the same story, the same details, the same words. It never changed. Why couldn't they believe him?

They couldn't find Pettigrew, that was why. They also needed to blame someone. And that someone had to be him because he was Black and all Blacks went bad. Regulus Black had been a Death Eater and even though Orion and Walburga Black weren't - they clearly liked Voldemort's plans for world domination. So, it clearly stood up to reason that their oldest son had been brainwashed as a young man to make friends with Potter and then as soon as he could, get him, his wife and young child killed by Voldemort. But it didn't work out that way and he never told it that way.

"Now, all you have to do is tell us the truth," Gregory said, he was perusing the wall of whips. Sirius watched him- fathomless grey eyes that were replicas of his mothers - as Gregory picked one of the worst whips in the entire collection, this one had acid tipped thorns and looked as if it had been made out of an army of brambles.

"I have, the story isn't going to change just because you don't like it," he replied, his voice echoed. He sounded like a school boy again, he still was. Barely a year out of Hogwarts and this was where he ended up. The dungeons of Hogwarts was better kept up than this and the food was much better.

Gregory didn't seem to care or not that his statement was answered by Sirius. He nodded to the guards, these Aurors had to be horrible if they were stationed in Azkaban. They were two burly men who were good for their muscles and not their brains. They probably had rich parents, for how else would they have even been considered for Auror training?

His hands were raised above his head and the chain that connected the wrist shackles was hooked and locked so that he was forced to stand on his tip toes. His shirt, shoes and prison slippers had all ready been confiscated and now, his body shivered of his own volition. He wasn't afraid. Dumbledore said to never be afraid of the truth, even if it was a hard thing to bear. Well, it would become a bloody nightmare as the evening was progressing.

The first strike beat the breath out of him. The second had him biting his tongue, the third, had him gasp once and the fourth made him groan.

From behind, Dolores Umbridge sat in a chair, sipping tea and eating chocolates and watching. The blood trailed down the lacerated back and she reveled in it. Blood. What a simple thing to obtain. An ingredient in many dark magic and in potions to boot. The possibilities that floated through her mind were quite alarming and yet…she wanted it.

Power.

She wanted more Power than Voldemort, the old Dandy was horrible at the job of Supreme War Lord of the Universe and she decided - right there and then that she should rule England. She'd have Fudge on a leash, and it would all be thanks to Sirius Black and his blood. It was a good thing that she carried vials around in her purse. Otherwise this would have been a wasted opportunity.

The man wasn't talking, he wasn't even screaming from the pain. The strong rows of blood sprinkled onto the floor, some drops got onto her shoe. She banished it with a sneer. She may have been thinking about drinking a powerful potion made up of Black's blood, but she didn't want it on her. Though, she had to wonder….no man ever properly worshipped her. It would be nice to have this man on her leash, tortured to her whims. Oh, the though put a right chill of thrill down her spine.

She wanted him as her pet. She could abuse him as much as she wanted when she was ruler of the Wizarding World. Smirking at the though, she sipped more tea and decided that somehow she had to find a spell that would make her ever more beautiful.

She would need blood for that as well.

"Black, why don't you just tell us what we want to hear?" she asked when Gregory stopped to rest his arm. She listened to the painful gasps of her pet, and smiled.

"Because….the truth is harder to bear," Black replied. She clucked her tongue and got to her feet. She pulled out two vials from her purse. She held them delicately and waited till the streams of blood filled them; Then she capped them both and then nodded to Gregory.

"He can stay here and think about this situation, but in the mean time, let us go and sit by the fire," she hemmed-hawed. Gregory nodded. He hung the whip by hits handle on the hook on the opposite side of the pole Sirius was locked onto.

He leaned in precariously to whisper into Sirius ear; "I'll be back later,"

Gregory was glad to see that these words made Black pail more than the whipping had. He held out his arm and escorted Dolores from the dungeons.

* * *

Sirius tried to wiggle his way out of the manacles. He could feel the tears coming to the surface. The cries of pain from the other prisoners had died down for the night, hopefully, and he had been left alone. He could hear the roar of drunken guards from down the hallway. He also hoped that none of them would be needing any company.

His wrists were bleeding by the time he was able to work on out. From the hem of his trousers he found the bit of metal and worked at the lock on his left wrist. As a child he had had a lot of practice at this sort of work. Not that he liked it, but he was thankful for it now. Not that he could get away. But damned if he was going to stand there and wait for them to come back to whip or rape, him again.

Once his second hand was free, Sirius rummaged around the room, he stayed away from the whips particularly. He was able to find some robes that weren't to moth eaten and shrugged them on. Then he curled up in a corner and decided that some sleep would be best.

tbc


	3. Serious Memories

A/N - I would like to thank GoldIE and MilyMB For their awesome reviews. This chapter also seems to be the shortest and 1,40-something words. How beastly!

Black Days of Azkaban

Part 3 - Serious Memories

**Rain pelted from the dark sky above the old and decrepit building. The castle on the lone island that had been discovered long ago, the home to the Dementor's who were the one and only defense this island had and would always have. Once, a very long time ago, even before Hogwarts, Azkaban had been a wonder to the Wizarding world. **

**It's builder and Lord was lost to the ages now, No one knew his name and he kept no records, some doubted that the castle had been built by Wizards at all and had actually been built by Muggles. Some thought that the Castle had been Camelot once upon a time till Morgana Le Fay had defeated her half-brother, Arthur, and Merlin and taken it for herself. **

**Of course, it really didn't matter - it did stave off the horror that began to well up inside him though. When he found everything dark and he couldn't move. He had been surprised during the night and bound into submission as he had been asleep. He still had the borrowed robes on - that was something at least. His back hurt like hell but he dared not dwell on that particular pain. It would fade, his back would heal and then be re-broken with the sharp slices of the Switchblade Whip*. **

**He was tied down to a table of wood, as far as he could tell. It was scratchy and he was sure that some of the particles would dig their way up if he hadn't been wearing any clothing. He could hear more than he could see, than Merlin. **

**He could hear the rain from outside, the cold breeze sometimes wafted across any exposed skin. He could hear the grunts of the Aurors too horrible for a job on the outside pass by this room, never stopping to jeer, tease or take their own passions out on him. **

**They weren't allowed - but, it was mostly over looked. **

**Time floated and he didn't know if it were day or night, Lunch or Dinner, if it had been years and he just floated. **

**Thunder boomed and he jumped in his bindings. He had always hated storms, no matter how many he had lived through in his room at Grimwald Place, or in Gryffindor Tower, he had always hated them. He had felt rather an odd peace later, when Remus and James and Peter would gather with him in bed and they would tell stories or plan pranks to try and keep a shaky Sirius calm and un-afraid. **

**He latched onto that memory, and he went with it. Damned the consequences. He didn't want to be there.**

_**A thirteen year old Sirius Black hated himself; he had jumped under the covers and coward there like a Slytherin would. How the blazes could he call himself a proper Gryffindor if he cowards under his blankets!**_

"_**Sirius, let us in, its cold," Remus called. He could feel the covers being moved and he allowed his friends in. They pulled the deep, red curtains to block out the lightning. **_

"_**Boy, I never thought you'd be scared of something, Sirius," Peter said. **_

"_**Shut up, I don't tease you about peas do I?" Sirius barked back, stuttering slightly as he did. James shook his head. **_

"_**It's all right, we're all afraid of something, its all right," he said, soothingly. The three boys knew exactly how to calm a frightened Sirius. The boy replied well to touch and James had brought Sirius into a warm hug as they laid down in the huge bed. **_

"_**Remember that time in first year when we transfigured Snape's books into Lemurs?" James asked. **_

_**Peter snickered; "He was livid!"**_

"_**And no one knew Peter could do it, I think McGonagall gave you thirteen points for it, and a week of detention," Remus put in. **_

"_**Yeah, that was funny, or that time we put a singing solution in the pumpkin juice and we had an all out singing quire, including the Professors?" Sirius' teeth were chattering but not from the cold. **_

"_**ha! That was ingenious! And all your idea, by the way," James replied. **_

"_**That was fourth year work," Remus said. **_

"_**You guys helped," Sirius chattered back. **_

_**James, Peter and Remus continued with their stories of first and second year - then Remus explained the Goblin Wars of 1567 to them in a way that actually made sense to Peter and put Sirius to sleep. **_

**If he woke, he didn't remember. The voices he heard, were like the storm. Something he should be afraid of. But, he shouldn't be afraid. A storm would pass. Always pass but to come again. **

"**Well, Mr. Black," and the hood came away. **

"**Are you ready to tell us what we want to hear?" Umbridge gave him a simpering smile. She wore bright yellow today, a garish colour even for her. It made her look even more fat. **

"**I didn't do it, it was Peter, it was Peter…" he whispered. He knew, by her frown, that wasn't what she wanted to hear. **

"_**Sirius Leigh Black! Attend!" Walburga Black frowned at her oldest son. Fifteen years old and he still hadn't learned a thing. He was a pureblood and he shouldn't be gallivanting off and not paying attention to his school work. Getting detentions for pranks and….who knows what else. **_

"_**Mother," Sirius cocked his head, looking up from The Picture of Dorian Gray**__ - a Muggle book someone had given to him. _

"_What do you think you are doing, rejecting Hilary like that?" Walburga stood in the doorway to Sirius' room. Her eyes hated the red and the gold, the pictures of the Muggle women half clad and those moving of the Quidditch players and the boy's 'friends'. _

"_She's boring and not as cool as Valerie," Sirius replied with a shrug. _

"_Who is Valerie?"_

"_A Ravenclaw in fifth year," Sirius replied. _

"_Hilary is purblood and much better than that other girl, Sirius, don't you under stand that we need to keep it that way?" she asked. Hands on hips. _

_Oh, how she loved that wild streak in her son, the way those fathomless gray eye would light up and dance when he was angry. So like her own. Maybe that was why he hated his family so much, he was like them in every single way and his single trouble was fighting against what he should be. _

"_What, are you advocating for Moldy-warts now?" he asked, scathingly. _

"_He is not a concern to us; we are a traditional family, our blood line is the best there is, not even the Malfoy's can hope to become what we have become," Walburga replied. _

"_Be that as it may, I refuse, and nothing can change my mind," Sirius grunted. Walburga glared. _

"_I will have you know, Sirius, my son, if you cross me on this, I will make your life miserable," she threatened. Sirius knew it wasn't empty either, she would do her earnest best. _

"_What are you going to do? Lock me in the cellar like when I was six? When I had a bad dream and all I wanted was to be held, but you wouldn't do it and you punished me for no reason?" Sirius asked. Seething now, she could see it. He had hissed at her, his eyes danced with fire and she was glad. _

"_I only want what is best for you," _

"_You want to control me," Sirius replied. She gazed at him for a long moment, before she closed, and charmed the door locked, behind her. _

He felt that familiar feeling in his gut right then and there. The torch light began to grown big before going out almost completely before it looked as if the walls were on fire.

Umbridge looked horrified, she wasn't able to do a thing before guards rushed in and they stunned him. He gave a beastly scream that spoke more of pain, more of rejection, more of simple _want_ before he succumbed to the curse.

----

Switchblade Whip - The whip with the thorns on it described in the chapter before.


End file.
